


Now I Am Become Death, Lawnmower Of Worlds

by laughingalonewithducks



Category: Battleborn (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6984058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingalonewithducks/pseuds/laughingalonewithducks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Montana is <em>great</em> at gift-giving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now I Am Become Death, Lawnmower Of Worlds

 Benedict is woken up at some godawful hour of the night by someone trying to punch his door down.

"Whatever it is, it can  _wait_ ," he informs Montana, opening the door a crack.

"Actually," Montana says, "it can't. Rath doesn't sleep like a normal person."

Benedict blinks at him, not awake enough to process this.

"I need a present for Rath," Montana explains, "and I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh," Benedict says. " _Ohhhh_. You've been together for a month, haven't you? That's adorable, Montana."

"I need some of those illegal warheads you're not supposed to have."

"That's, uh, slightly less adorable."

***

Rath gets as far as "Montana, what-" before Montana barges past him and into his room, holding a crate almost as big as he is.

"Sorry!" he says, gently placing the crate on the floor. "Hands were slipping. _Really_ wouldn't want to drop these guys."

Rath stares at him. 

"Um," Montana says. "It's... been a month?"

"Oh." Rath looks vaguely embarrassed. "I didn't-"

"It's fine!" Montana interrupts. "I'd've given these to you anyway."

"...A month isn't exactly a long time to me," Rath says, examining the crate. "I was going to wait a year."

Montana snorts and flops onto the couch, content to watch Rath work. "Yeah, you're like, super old or something, right? Does this make you a cradle-robber?"

Rath pointedly ignores him and starts to pry the lid off.

"Montana," he says, staring at the steel cylinders inside, "these are..."

"I thought you'd like them, y'know, what with your whole weapon-making thing. I know they're not swords, but... they're still pretty cool. Also, if anyone asks, you didn't get them from me. You didn't get them from anyone. They're beer kegs and you have no idea where they came from."

Rath actually smiles at him. "I don't usually work with artillery, but these... hmm. Tell me how they work," he demands, arranging himself on the couch next to Montana.

"I'm pretty sure Bened- uh, my supplier who will not be named - said they were pure fusion. These ones have an antimatter trigger - the standard ones have tokamaks and don't do anywhere near the damage antimatter does."

Rath listens intently, feet digging into Montana's side as he elaborates on the secondary stage, and considers fixing a bayonet to that gun Montana seems to like so much.

***

They land on a large hill after a few days of circling the planet. It's a nice spot - sunny, with a nice advantageous slope to attack from. The Guardians and their strange, bug-like allies are already gathering down the bottom as the Battleborn set up, anticipating a fight.

"Alright, you lot," Ghalt starts, "stick to the usual plan-"

"Actually," Rath interrupts, "does anyone mind if I go in alone first? Got some new weaponry I'd like to test out."

Ghalt's eyebrows shoot up. "...Sure."

Rath looks... ragged, to say the least. There are soot streaks on his armour, several panels on his ridiculous skirt are frayed, and-

"Eyebrows," Mike squeaks. "Your  _eyebrows._ What  _happened_ to them."

Rath smirks at him, kisses Montana, and breaks into a full-tilt run down the hill.

"Wow." Montana stares after him. "He  _really_ liked those warheads."

Ghalt looks a little ill. 

"Montana, please," he says, "tell me you didn't give Rath illegal thermonuclear warheads."

There is a muffled  _whomp_ from the bottom of the hill, which is already pocked with very large craters. A clod of dirt hits Ghalt in the face.

"I did not give Rath illegal thermonuclear warheads," Montana says dutifully. He smiles besottedly down at Rath, who runs a Guardian through and  _cackles_ as it vaporises.

***

"Deande," Ghalt says eventually, after a particularly large explosion shakes the entire hill, "please tell me you're not going to start attaching rockets to your weapons or something. The UPR think you're shady enough as is."

"Absolutely not, sir," Deande replies, surreptitiously tucking her fan back into her sleeve.

Ghalt catches the movement and gives her a very disappointed look. "Deande,  _no._ "

"He turned up at my door covered in soot and offered me explosive knives. How could I refuse?"

"You say 'no, Rath, I would not like any of your highly dangerous and illegal experimental weapons'. Easy."

" _Explosive knives,_ Ghalt."

***

Phoebe looks speculatively over at Benedict, and smiles. 

"Benedict," she says sweetly, "you wouldn't happen to have any  _more_ of those things, would you?"

Benedict smirks back at her. "I definitely don't, but if I _did_ , I might have a few lying around that I could spare."

"Absolutely  _not_ ," Ghalt says, stepping in between them. "There will be  _no_ arms races on this ship, do you hear me?"

"Of course, sir." Phoebe turns on her heel. "Benedict, why don't we take this discussion somewhere else?"

"NO ARMS RACES _OFF_ THE SHIP, EITHER!" Ghalt shouts after them. "PHOEBE, _NO!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> help im stuck in shipper hell and i cant get out
> 
> dont ask me how rath would incorporate a theoretical fissionless thermonuclear bomb into a sword because i have no fucking idea lmao


End file.
